


birds as beautiful as these

by bottledbliss



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Artist AU, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I Don't Know Where This Is Going, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Romance, Slow Burn, kastle - Freeform, opting for multiple chapters for now but might change later, probably?, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 05:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19900417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottledbliss/pseuds/bottledbliss
Summary: When Nelson and Murdock decide to split, Karen has to look for a new job.





	birds as beautiful as these

At first, Karen had thought they’d never go through with it. Foggy and Matt could bicker for hours, but they always made up in the end. This should be no different. Except it was. They’d had one disagreement too many and now, she had to watch Foggy take down the sign from the door and shove it in a box with the last of the stuff from his desk. ‘Nelson and Murdock’ was no more.

“You didn’t have to stick around for this.”

“Don’t worry, Foggy.” She squeezed his arm and sighed. She was really going to miss working with him. “It’s not like you’re making me late for work.”

“Sorry you’re out of a job,” he smiled halfheartedly.

Ah, yes, there was that too. “I’ll find something.” Preferably sooner rather than later. Rent was cheap, but not that cheap, and she quite liked eating, so being able to afford that would be nice.

“I wish I had some suggestions for you,” he grumbled as she held the front door open for him and they stepped out in the street. “Apart from that one… Hey!” An idea lit up his eyes. “I know a guy who knows a guy!”

“Looking for an assistant?”

“Technically, yes.”

“Oh, wow, that didn’t sound fishy at all,” Karen frowned.

“No, listen,” Foggy insisted as he shifted the box from left to right. “It’s going to sound weird but it’s good money. At least until something better comes along.”

There was no harm in listening to his suggestion, especially if the money was good. “How naked do I have to get?” she joked.

“I’m not sure. Is partial nudity off the table?”

She expected him to laugh any minute now. Any minute now. He just kept looking at her, waiting for an answer. “Foggy!”

“I’m not talking about porn,” he clarified in a whisper. “I’m talking about art! An artist looking for a model and nothing else.”

Imagining herself posing with a sheet draped over her body seemed funnier than porn for some reason. “I’m not a model, Foggy.”

“But you’re model material,” he said and winked playfully.

“How well do you know this man?” Karen pressed. There were lots of weirdos in this city and prior experience with an art major she knew in college, had taught her that artists could be the weirdest of them all.

“He tried to sell me insurance some time ago, before he switched careers,” Foggy explained. “I would never mention this if there was anything strange about it, okay? My guy is solid. He’s as good as they come and he has assured me the artist is decent, if a little bit rough around the edges. Kind of a recluse.” Seeing Karen’s hesitation, he decided not to push. “Think about it is all I’m saying. Sitting still for long periods of time isn’t the worst job description.”

That was true.

Which was why she’d agreed to meet the artist, see for herself what kind of vibe he gave off and have him explain what he would expect his model to do exactly.

His house, which could be more accurately described as a small, modest mansion, could at least speak to his wealth. But even before she set foot inside it, she could tell it wasn’t a home. It was certainly decorated beautifully, but it lacked warmth that the sun coming in through the large windows couldn’t make up for. Not a great start.

“Miss Page, I am Curtis Hoyle,” said the man who had let her in, the guy who knew the guy. “We spoke on the phone.”

Karen was somewhat disappointed that he wasn’t the artist, because the vibes coming off of him were generous and kind. “Nice to meet you in person, Curtis,” she smiled as they shook hands.

“You too.” He smiled back. “My buddy, Nelson, spoke very highly of you and I was anxious to see if half of what he said was true.”

“It probably wasn’t,” she laughed as he led her down a long hallway. Her perusal of the paintings in the foyer would have to wait- they weren’t all that interesting and there was artwork wherever she looked anyway.

“So you’re not patient and caring?” 

“Well…” Karen bit her lip. She could be patient, if she tried. Was that going to be part of her duties though? Having her patience tested by the elusive painter? “I can be.”

“Hard-working and dedicated?” Curtis went on as if checking qualities off a list.

“Definitely,” she nodded.

“And I can see with my own eyes that you’re gorgeous, so it seems that Nelson wasn’t lying after all,” he grinned as she went around observing a couple of paintings, unsuccessfully trying to hide her blush.

She pointed at a small watercolor of a cathedral. “Is this his?” 

“God, no,” he laughed loudly. “Frank hates that one and I only left it here to annoy him. Something about the equilibrium of the colors rubs him the wrong way. We don’t really keep his stuff in the house.” He moved to stand under the painting of a garden. “Besides this and...” The other one, the one he shouldn’t bring up. “And his current projects, but those are all in his studio.”

She didn’t know much about art which meant she couldn’t appreciate the process of creation like a real connoisseur could, but she’d have loved to have seen how this painting came to be. The elegant, crimson flowers popping out of the green, the tree whose misshapen trunk revealed it had weathered several storms but still stood tall against the backdrop of the morning sky. And those two birds, soaring with their wings spread like they’d just risen from the ashes, the silk of their feathers glistening and shining under a sun just outside of the frame. She had never seen anything like them. “This is…”

“Surprisingly, not his best work,” Curtis told her, a hint of pride in his voice.

“If he’s that good, how come I’ve never heard of him?” she asked, very carefully running a finger over the frame.

“He’s very famous in Europe.” What he didn’t mention was that Frank had managed to upset the most important art critics on U.S. soil, making promoting his work here next to impossible. “His reclusive shtick helps a lot. They view him kinda like Banksy, makes them go crazy.”

“People love what they can’t have,” she whispered, almost like she hadn’t intended to say that out loud.

“Exactly,” Curtis beamed.

“Is that why he’s hiding? Marketing reasons?” An intrigued smile rose to her lips.

“Uh, no, he…”

He hesitated a moment too long and her smile fell away. “How terrible is he?”

“He’s not terrible, he’s just…” His eyes quickly flicked from her to the painting and back, and his shoulders lifted with tension. “Been through a lot. Hardened. Which sometimes translates to being-”

“Difficult,” she chimed in. “He’s difficult, I get it.” As long as he wasn’t rude. “Are we actually going to meet though? You don’t expect me to agree to work with a person I haven’t met, right?”

“In here.” He walked further down the hallway and knocked on a door at its end. “Frank, we have company.”

“Not now,” the artist boomed from the other side of the door.

Curtis turned to Karen with an apologetic look on his face. Then he twisted the door knob, pushed and entered the studio, while she stood back, wondering if this would be like what she did for Matt and Foggy; pretending she couldn’t hear them arguing, until the time came to bust in and act as a tranquilizer.

“When I say we have company, it means you have to stop being a hermit and talk to people,” Curtis spoke softly, only to spare Karen the awkwardness of overhearing a conversation that shouldn’t be happening at all.

“I’m not being a hermit, I’m busy,” Frank replied, his voice gruff and forbidding.

“Busy doing what? You were just looking out the window.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m busy in my head,” he grunted. “Go away, Curt.”

Yup, exactly like Matt and Foggy, Karen noted in her own head.

“Well, inspiration will come knocking again later, but Karen Page is here now and you will see her,” Curtis demanded.

“Another model?” he asked over the sound of shuffling papers. “She gonna be like the last one? Honestly, I’d rather go back to landscapes than work with someone who’ll struggle holding a pose for more than two minutes.”

“Frank,” Curtis blew an exasperated sigh.

Sighing was always her cue. She stepped into the studio. “Mister Castle, I’m Karen Page. Pleased to meet you.”

Ruggedly handsome, like a Roman sculpture that hadn’t suffered a limb deficiency, Frank Castle stood with his side to an enormous window, leaning over a drafting table. He straightened up immediately to shake the hand extending to meet his, and nodded. “Ma’am.” His eyebrows seemed to be perpetually knitted together in a scowl, complemented by the thin line his full lips were forming under his beard, while his ears blushed a bright pink.

He’s shy, Karen thought as she tried to suppress a giggle, watching him flounder with his pencils for a while.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told, but modeling isn’t easy money.” He turned to her with what, she imagined, was his most intimidating glare. “There will be times when your back will hurt and you’ll want to take a break, but the perfect shadow will have landed on your nose and you won’t be allowed to move a muscle, do you get that?”

She’d been able to sit very still during depositions of convicted criminals –one of them a murderer- even though her back, her head and her stomach hurt; and he believed this would scare her? “Uh-huh.” 

Something he caught on her face seemed to pique his interest and he held her gaze as he asked “How long can you hold a pose?”

“I don’t know. Let’s find out,” Karen said, dropping her bag on the floor. “Where do you want me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think or, if you prefer, come talk to me at [bottled-bliss](https://bottled-bliss.tumblr.com/).


End file.
